


Never Accept The Coffee Right Away (Make Him Work For It)

by jeremyruiner



Series: Pippa Coulson's Guide to Dealing With The Emotionally Constipated [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Coffee, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Genderbending, Rule 63, pippa coulson took over my brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeremyruiner/pseuds/jeremyruiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Brought you coffee."</p><p>Phillipa Coulson looked over her glasses and frowned slightly at the archer who was nervously scratching at the back of his neck. He had a cut on his left cheek and a sore spot that was already started to bruise on his right arm. If she looked close enough, and she didn't because he didn't deserve the full weight of her concern, not after that stunt he pulled, she would be more worried that it looked like Clint still had debris and matted blood in his hair.</p><p>But she wasn't concerned. So it didn't matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Accept The Coffee Right Away (Make Him Work For It)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coulsons-hawk (allyoop)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop/gifts).



"Brought you coffee."

Phillipa Coulson looked over her glasses and frowned slightly at the archer who was nervously scratching at the back of his neck. He had a cut on his left cheek and a sore spot that was already started to bruise on his right arm. If she looked close enough, and she didn't because he didn't deserve the full weight of her concern, not after that stunt he pulled, she would be more worried that it looked like Clint still had debris and matted blood in his hair.

But she wasn't concerned. So it didn't matter. 

"Is it the caramel hazelnut that Maurice makes special for me?" She barely resisted the urge to raise one carefully groomed eyebrow, figuring her no nonsense tone said enough. It was no secret that Maurice, the barista down at that place on the corner, was sweet on her, from the way he never charged her for her drinks, to the way she sometimes found a little heart or smiley face in the foam of her drinks. And sure she wasn't proud of it, but every now and then she flashed him a bit of thigh holster to get him to giver her a first batch blueberry muffin. The good kind, with the fresh fruit, none of that usual morning rush pre-packaged bullshit. 

And anything that riled Clint up to the point of vigorous office sex was WELL worth the investment if you asked Pippa.

Pippa almost smirked in victory when Clint's tongue darted out to wet his lips and turned his head away slightly, a habit he picked up when he was uncomfortable. Not that she noticed for personal reasons, she's a good handler, and being a good handler requires taking note of her underlings traits. It was practically clinical the way she watched that pink muscle slide over those slightly battle-swollen lips. Clinical. Scientific.

"I uh..Jasper made coffee in the conference room before the debrief and I snagged you a cup. Not sure what kind of stuff is in it. Stark liked it though, but he could drink sludge and not even blink. Man has the stomach of a garbage disposer." Clint laughed a little, hoping the mutual ground of Stark jokes would break some of the glacial ice that was in the room. From the way Pip's red lips stayed in a perfectly straight line and her eyes tightened slightly behind her large, black frames- that plan fell flat. "And you uh...you weren't at the debrief Pip, so I figured I should bring you some. If I hurry, I can run back and grab you a cruller."

Pippa wrinkled her nose and pushed her glasses back up, turning back to the reports waiting to be filled out. "I'm trying to watch my figure. Tac suits aren't as forgiving as they used to be."

Clint held in his sigh. He wasn't stepping anywhere near that minefield of a conversation. If there's one thing he's learned over his years dealing with women, it's that there is no possible way for him to be right, so it's best if he just shuts up and carries on like he heard nothing. "Why weren't you there Pip? Isn't yelling at me your favorite part of the job?"

Pippa goes completely still, and Clint swears she's not even breathing. She levels Clint with a look so glacial he swears his balls are getting frost bite. She takes a deep breath and removes her glasses, replacing them with her fingers in a less than soothing pinch. This was the first time he saw how weary she was; her normally sleek hair was ruffled and tugged at looking, her lucky blue shirt she wore on missions rumpled seemingly beyond repair, even her delicate looking- looking being the key word- shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of her mental strain. He did this to her. He made the normally unflappable Phillipa Coulson look disheveled and human. And not in the way he usually liked. No, this Pippa didn't have the love drunk flush to her high cheeks or the light that sparkled in her baby blues, there was no laughter or soft sighs of pleasure pouring from those lovely lips. She was tired, and she was angry, and it was all Clint's fault. 

"Clint I'm only going to say this once, so you better listen well and get this through your thick skull. You ever undermine me in the field again, you ever go against a direct order, you even blink in a direction that I don't ok- we're done. I trust you to make the right call, I rely on your insight- but dear God Clint, you need to fucking talk to me. You can't just cowboy around like a God damn vigilante You're not a fucking child anymore, you have people to answer to, responsibilities!" Pippa's eyes got bright and she looked away from him. Clint's stomach bottomed out, he could take the worst kind of torture- blowtorches, bamboo, nail guns, you name it, but seeing his Pip upset made him feel like his skin was on fire. "You jumped off a fucking building Clint! Without any backup for blocks around! What kind of fucking idiotic-"

Clint was across the room and kissing the words out of her mouth before she could finish. Pip's lips were soft and warm, and Clint was wholly unconcerned with the red streaks they were inevitably leaving around his mouth. Pippa sagged against him and Clint couldn't do anything but hold her smaller frame against him, careful not to spill the coffee. If this was the last time her kissed her, he was going to take advantage of it. 

She pushed him back with a hard shove, slapping him across his uncut cheek. Well, at least she wasn't too mad at him, otherwise she would've gone for blood. Clint had a theory that that's why she and Nat always got along so well. As well as Bobbi...and Jess too. And now that he thought about it, even Katie. Clint tried to not dwell on that particularly worrying pattern. 

"You're a jackass."

Clint sighed, the worst was over. "I know."

"And I'm mad at you."

"I know."

"Give me that coffee."

Clint handed it over.

Pippa straightened her black skirt, and slipped her blazer over her slim shoulders, the silky dark blue of her button up covered. Her bright red tipped fingers curled over the files and she started towards the door, her leathal looking heels clicking against the shiny wood. Her hips swayed tantalizingly and Clint bit back a whimper. His Pip was back.

"Once you pick you're tongue up off the floor, meet me in conference room 7. You need an official dressing down Specialist."

Clint closed his eyes briefly and imagined exactly what his dressing down may entail. "Yes ma'am"

Pippa turned back and looked over her shoulder, the area around eyes soft and kind again. "Not like that Specialist, it's time to preform my so called favorite part of the job."

She flashed him a pearly grin and left Clint grimacing in her wake.

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to Ally. Who loves fashion and Phlint and makes me cry at 4am over clothes.


End file.
